


You Are

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys/Rambling Wrecks AUs [8]
Category: Glee, Rambling Wrecks
Genre: Implied Prior Homelessness, M/M, Reunion, Running Away, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1881579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1116478">Cold Light of Day</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are

**Author's Note:**

> So, Rav has wanted to write this for a long, long time, and Patch is the best ever, so we finally did write it.

Dave thinks about Casey, but he doesn’t talk about him. What good does it do to speculate about where Casey is or how he’s doing? It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change that Casey had to go _back_ to his dad’s house. It doesn’t change that Casey had to drive away and leave Lima, and not contact any of them. Sometimes people at McKinley try to bring Casey up, but Dave usually changes the subject or walks away from the conversation entirely. It just doesn’t change anything. 

When Dave gets to GT, he doesn’t tell his new roommates much of anything about himself, Lima, or people he knew back home. He doesn’t join them in talking about the girls they find attractive, but he doesn’t mention that he’s gay, not until mid-October when they’re discussing the presidential elections and some of the state initiatives. Dave tells them both because he’s come to trust them and because he thinks it’s important that they know that they know someone well who happens to also be gay, and Dave is unsurprised but still relieved that it doesn’t seem to make any difference to them. 

It doesn’t even come up that often, not until February, when Ty and Coop set Dave up on a series of increasingly awkward blind dates. First there’s Todd, which thankfully ends with both of them deciding they’re better off as friends, and then a few people that make little impact on Dave after he says good night. The one that makes Dave tell Ty and Coop to call it quits is a guy that could be Miles in attitude, only blond and taller. 

The summer after Dave’s freshman year at GT, he mentions Casey’s name to Ty, telling a story about his senior year, and then he freezes. Ty doesn’t push it, not that day, but a few days later, he brings it up again. 

“Dave?” he asks, minutes after Coop and Danny have left the dorm. “Is Casey an ex?” 

Dave frowns, starts to shake his head, then stops, starts to nod, and stops again. “That’s an easy way to put it, but it doesn’t really explain it,” he finally says, grabbing a cold pop and opening it before sitting down in the living area and slowly telling Casey’s story to Ty. 

Ty doesn’t bring Casey up again after that day, and Dave isn’t sure if Ty mentions the story to Coop and Danny or not. It doesn’t bother Dave if they know, and in some ways, he’d like them to know, but he doesn’t want to tell the story again. 

All three of his roommates start going to Pride Alliance meetings with Dave when the fall semester starts for their sophomore year, which surprises a few people and generally reminds Dave that at least the three of them have his back. He doesn’t talk about Casey again, but he thinks about him. He considers looking for him somehow, but Casey still isn’t eighteen, could still be sent back to his dad, and Dave won’t take that chance. Even after Casey’s birthday, Dave still doesn’t take that chance, afraid that somehow the law would not work in their favor. 

That’s what keeps Dave from looking into the summer of 2014, and then when he sits down in August, a few days before classes begin, fully intending to look, he gets scared. What if he looks and finds answers he doesn’t want? Maybe it’s better to imagine Casey living somewhere happy and free of his dad, than to know of some worse outcome, outcomes Dave can’t even let himself really think through. 

Football in the autumn keeps Dave busy enough that he doesn’t dwell too much on anything other than the idea of Casey starting his freshman year at some college, somewhere far away from Lima. Washington State, maybe, Dave thinks, or Boston. There are a lot of colleges in Boston, so that would be a good place for Casey. 

Paul comes down to visit Dave at Christmas, since there’s a bowl game and the associated practices, and the night before Paul flies back to Lima, he and Dave go to the Vortex for a hamburger. 

“I have a question,” Paul says as they finish. “Do you want me to hire someone?”

“Hire someone?” Dave asks blankly. 

“To find Casey,” Paul says, his voice quiet, and Dave is silent for a long time. 

“Maybe this summer,” he finally says. “If he’s in college, he deserves a chance to adjust and finish his freshman year without the past knocking, you know?” 

Paul nods, and the subject is dropped, but it’s still on Dave’s mind a week or two later when he sees a car that reminds him of Casey’s, driving down Fifth Street and over the bridge. Dave shakes his head and continues into the Waffle House. Anyone could have that car. It doesn’t mean anything except that Casey is still on his mind. 

He sees the same car, or one exactly like it, a few days later, and then a week after that, he sees someone near Skiles, standing at the top of the stairs, that reminds him so strongly of Casey he almost runs towards him. The guy standing there is short, redheaded, and stands like Casey, but before Dave can decide what to do, he vanishes behind a crowd of students, and by the time Dave gets to the top of the stairs, there’s no one nearby who even has red hair. 

The car drives near him a third time two weeks later, and he thinks he sees the guy who reminds him of Casey at least four more times. Twice near the student center, once near the bookstore, and again near Skiles. Still, no one else talks to the guy, and he always seems to disappear, which makes Dave wonder if he’s really seeing anything other than a ghost of a memory. 

Sometimes Dave’s phone rings, but when he answers the 202 area code, no one says anything. The call ends after two or five or eight seconds, but no one says a word on the other end, and Dave can’t hear any background noise, usually. One time, Dave would swear that he can hear the whistle on the other end of the line, but he can hear it from where he is, too, only fainter, and he can’t be sure that it’s not just an artifact. 

When Dave calls the number back, there’s no outgoing message, just a generic voicemail, and no one ever answers except the voicemail. Dave looks up the number online, but it tells him only what he had already guessed: a cell phone, issued somewhere in New York City. 

The next time Dave thinks he sees Casey’s car, he makes a decision in his mind, to tell his dad ‘yes’ at the end of the semester. Not knowing finally seems worse than knowing even the grimmest possible outcome, and part of Dave—most of him, even—still holds out hope for _finding_ Casey again. 

Two days later, the 202 number calls again, and this time when Dave answers, he keeps talking after saying “Hello?” and waiting two or three seconds. “Just say something,” he says, feeling exasperated. “Surely you know by now if this is a wrong number or not.” 

There’s a loud exhale, like the person on the other end of the line was holding his breath, then Casey’s voice says, “Hi David.”

“Oh.” Dave blinks a little, turning towards a nearby building. “So I’m not crazy.”

“Um. Probably not?”

“I just figured you were somewhere farther away. Washington State or Boston or something,” Dave says. 

“I was,” Casey says.

“This is a New York area code, though,” Dave says, feeling confused.

“Yes. I was, um. I was in New York,” Casey says. “That’s where I was.”

“I didn’t look for you because I didn’t want anyone to know if I found you,” Dave says. “Just in case. Dad and I… we were going to look this summer.” 

“Oh. That’s, um. That’s why I didn’t call you before. I didn’t want you to get in trouble. In more trouble, I mean.” Casey’s voice sounds like it always did, a little breathy and excited, and Dave smiles at the wall in front of him. 

“You close to Fifth Street?” Dave asks. 

“I’m by the library,” Casey says. “Are _you_ close to Fifth Street?”

“Yeah. Meet me in front of the Waffle House?” 

“Okay.” There’s a long pause before Casey adds, “You’re sure?”

“Unless you like Moe’s better?” Dave asks, feeling confused again. 

“No, no, Waffle House is good,” Casey answers quickly. “I’ll, um. See you. You know. There.”

“See you in just a few,” Dave says, waiting for the call to end before he starts walking towards the Waffle House. He sends Ty a quick text that doesn’t explain anything, just that he won’t be in the weight room or anything, and can Ty cover for him? He gets a text back almost immediately saying no problem, and Dave turns his phone to silent as he stands in front of the Waffle House. 

Dave spots Casey immediately, from down the block, and as Casey gets closer, Dave notices he’s not overly skinny, like he’s been starving or anything, and he can’t help smiling widely as Casey approaches. “You’re really real,” he says when Casey’s still about ten feet away. 

Casey nods, smiling nervously as he continues walking towards Dave. He stops just before arm’s reach, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the sidewalk as he looks down at his feet. He looks briefly up at Dave, the nervous smile widening a little. “Hi.”

“Come here,” Dave says, waving his hands towards him a little. “I guess I was right.”

“You were?” Casey asked, stepping in a little closer. 

“About not changing my number,” Dave explains, reaching for Casey and pulling him into a hug. Casey tenses at first, almost a flinch, but then he sighs and relaxes as he wraps his arms around as much of Dave as he can.

“Yes,” Casey says quietly. “You were right. You were very right.”

Dave holds onto Casey long enough that he’s sure they’re in a few people’s way, whispering with his lips near Casey’s head. “You’re home,” he says, then pulls back enough to kiss Casey. Casey startles, but he doesn’t pull away, and after a moment, he puts his arms around Dave’s neck and kisses back. 

Eventually someone bumps into them, and Dave smiles at Casey, leading him into the Waffle House. “How do you like Atlanta?”

“It’s good.” Casey holds onto Dave’s hand tightly. “I like it.”

“Good,” Dave says as they sit down at the counter. “Is it okay if I tell my dad that you’re here? Later, I mean. Not right now.” 

Casey nods. He still doesn’t look directly at Dave, but keeps stealing glances at him. Except for ordering, they sit quietly for awhile, hand in hand, and occasionally Dave squeezes Casey’s hand. Dave eats his chili with his left hand while Casey eats his scattered and covered hashbrowns with one hand, too, both of them still silent. 

When Casey’s food is gone, he sets his fork down next to his empty plate and takes a deep breath. After he exhales again, he says, “I’m sorry.”

Dave frowns at his bowl for a few seconds, realizing suddenly that Casey ate faster than Dave can remember ever seeing Casey eat, and then he tries to figure out why, exactly, Casey’s apologizing to him. “For?” he finally asks. 

“For how I left. For getting you involved. For everything?” Casey shrugs one shoulder, staring down at his and Dave’s joined hands.

“You were a sophomore in high school,” Dave says softly. “What choice did you have?”

“I could have told you,” Casey says. “I could have not come over that night.”

“If you had told me…” Dave trails off. “You did what you had to do. You did tell me, in a way, _by_ coming over.” 

“A shitty way,” Casey says, shaking his head. 

“You did what you had to do,” Dave repeats, trying not to smile at how funny it sounds, hearing Casey swear. “And now you’re here.” 

“Now I’m here,” Casey agrees. “So. So, um. How have you been?” He grimaces after he asks it. 

Dave smiles a little. “Atlanta’s a pretty good place to be,” he says after a few moments. “You want to head back to my dorm? No one’s there, and we’ve got more food.” 

He hasn’t even gotten all the words out before Casey is saying “Yes!” and then looking a little embarrassed over how quickly he answered. Dave’s smile gets a little wider and he pays the bill before the two of them walk, still holding hands, back to Dave’s dorm. 

When they get there, they do exactly as Dave assumed, Dave stopping for two pops before they sit on sofa next to each other. Dave pulls Casey close to him, closing his eyes and just sitting there in what Dave thinks of as happy silence. Casey makes a little snuffling sigh as he slowly relaxes against Dave’s chest, curling up into a ball. Dave doesn’t know how long they sit there before he can hear Casey whispering something too softly for Dave to make out what it is. Dave doesn’t ask him to repeat it, just tightens his arm around Casey and, a few minutes later, whispers “You’re home” again. Neither of them says anything else, and the next time someone speaks in the dorm is after the door opens and Dave can hear his dormmates piling in. 

“Ho-lee-shit,” Dave can hear Coop whispering, presumably to Ty and Danny. “Dave’s with a guy!”

“Who is that guy?” Danny asks, his voice just as quiet. “Does he go to Tech?”

“We could just ask Dave,” Ty says.

“I think he’s sleeping, though,” Coop says. “With that _guy_!”

“Maybe he’s a mail-order boyfriend!” Danny says. “That figure skater got one from Russia.”

“You know what? You might actually be right for once, Danny,” Coop says. “He’s small. He could probably fit in a box.”

Dave slowly shakes his head and then opens his eyes. “You’re not going to guess, Ty?” 

“Hey, if you want to have secret trysts,” Ty says teasingly, but something in his expression makes Dave suspect Ty’s already figured it. 

“You awake?” Dave whispers to Casey, even though he’s pretty sure Casey is. Casey nods against Dave’s chest. “Want to meet three people?”

“Okay,” Casey whispers back, starting to sit up. 

“So the trustworthy one in the middle is Ty,” Dave says, looking smugly at Coop. “The one who is unnaturally attached to his baseball cap is Coop, and the last one is Danny.” 

“Hi,” Casey says, lifting one of his hands into a small wave.

“See?” Ty says. “Not Russian.” 

“He could still be mail-order!” Danny insists. 

“He’s not mail-order,” Dave says with a snort, shaking his head. 

Ty tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, and after Dave nods, Ty steps forward a little. “Casey, right?” 

Casey nods again. “Yes. Hi, Ty.”

Ty sticks out his hand. “Really glad you made it to Atlanta, then, Casey.” 

Casey takes Ty’s hand, then allows Ty to shake his hand vigorously. “Thanks,” Casey says. “I’m glad I made it, too.”

“Casey, like, _Casey_?” Coop asks. “As in _Casey_ -Casey?”

“Yep, Casey Jones,” Ty says with a wink in Casey’s direction. Dave blinks and stares at Ty confusedly, which just makes Ty grin more widely. 

“Like from the Ninja Turtles!” Danny says. 

“He kinda _is_ mail order, then,” Coop says. 

“He is not mail order,” Dave says, sighing and shaking his head. 

“Special order, maybe,” Ty says. “I signed you in at study hall, but workouts were position groups.” 

Dave shrugs. “I haven’t missed a workout since I had that flu freshman year. It’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Ty says. “Should we order some pizza or something? Casey, just tell me you don’t like anchovies and pineapple on a pizza together, ‘cause I am not ordering that.” 

Dave barely holds back a laugh. “No, he doesn’t like anchovies and pineapple on a pizza, Ty. No one likes those two things together on a pizza.”

“I’m going to find someone one day,” Ty says, “and they will become my sworn enemy.” He grins and pulls out his phone, obviously intent on ordering pizza whatever Dave’s answer is, and Dave nods, Casey still sitting very still. 

“I have a problem set due at midnight,” Danny says. “Call me back out here when there’s pizza.” 

“Will do,” Ty says, before turning to his phone, and Dave shakes his head. 

“That’s everyone who lives in the dorm,” Dave says to Casey. “It’s usually pretty quiet.” 

“Really?” Casey asks, sounding dubious.

“That’s about as loud as we get. If someone wants to get rowdy and loud, there’s not a shortage of parties, you know?” Dave shrugs a little. “But our required workouts and practices are close enough to a job, on top of classes.” 

Casey nods. “I’m doing work-study.”

“Where at?” Dave asks. 

“The library. I don’t have a major yet, so.” Casey shrugs. 

“I don’t make it there often,” Dave says, smiling a little. “Do you want some pizza? Danny’ll take his back to his room, and Coop….” He looks around and shrugs. “Ty can steal Coop’s hat if he gets too big for his britches.”

“If he... huh?” Casey asks, looking confused. 

“It’s something Ty says,” Dave says. “Coop does, a lot.”

“Oh. Okay?”

Dave laughs. “Anyway, when it’s Ty’s turn to pay, he always orders too much.” 

“Oh. Um. You’re sure?” Casey asks. “I don’t want to eat pizza somebody needs.”

“Oh yeah,” Dave says. “That’s why he’s not allowed to buy all the time.”

“Okay. Sure. I don’t have pizza a lot,” Casey says.

“There’s always a ton of food around here.” Dave shrugs and tightens his arm around Casey again. “Had any horrible professors yet?”

Casey shakes his head. “No, everybody’s great. I’m just really happy I’m here. I didn’t know if I would make it.”

“Yeah.” Dave doesn’t ask anything about how long Casey was in New York, or why Casey didn’t know if he would make it, just nods a little, smiling, and they sit there silently while they wait for the pizza, even after Dave nods when Ty asks about turning on the TV. Dave doesn’t really pay much attention to whatever is on the TV, and he doesn’t really pay much attention to the pizza after it gets there, eating his slices with one hand and watching Casey eat two slices of pizza and then pause for a few minutes before taking a third and eating it. 

Dave checks the time periodically until it’s late enough he and Casey can go to bed and not have Ty immediately think one or both of them is ill. 

He stands up, taking Casey’s hand and calling good night to Ty and Coop as they watch a re-run of some kind, then walks down the hall to his bedroom, locking the door behind them. Dave doesn’t feel like he has to ask what Casey wants to do next, because he’s pretty sure it’s the same thing Dave wants, and he strips down to his boxers before lying down on the bed and looking at Casey. After a brief pause, Casey also strips down to his boxer briefs, standing next to the bed. 

“Come on,” Dave says softly, his eyes traveling up and down Casey. His hair is shorter than Dave remembers it ever being, but that makes sense to Dave. Short of dying it, that was probably the best way for it not to get noticed. His eyebrow and ear are both pierced, but Dave thinks that they don’t look out of place, somehow. He still isn’t that filled out, and Dave suspects he never really will be, and there are some small scars scattered on his arms and torso. One of them reminds Dave of the way a cut looks when someone gets hung up on a chain-link fence, and he wonders if that’s what happened to Casey there. Casey will probably never be tall either, and Dave shakes his head a little at himself, his smile widening as he opens his arms a little. “Just rest.”

“I have a dorm,” Casey says, though it doesn’t really sound defensive so much as apologetic. “You don’t have to let me stay.”

“Rest,” Dave repeats firmly, arms still stretched out.

Casey hesitates for a few seconds, then climbs into bed with Dave, letting Dave wrap his arms around him. Casey is still tense at first, but then Dave can feel more than hear Casey sigh a little, and Dave rubs his hand in a circle on Casey’s back. 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Dave says. “Or justify anything. Or, hell, you don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t want to. If you want to, I’ll listen, but don’t feel like I need it. I don’t.”

Dave can feel Casey nod. “It’s just. There’s just a lot, I mean,” Casey says. “Stuff I did. Stuff I had to do.”

“But you’re here. Like I said, you don’t have to justify anything to me.” Dave smiles a little. “We can tell people you were disinherited from your fabulously wealthy dude ranch family in Colorado, or something.” 

Casey shrugs. “I don’t want you to be, um. Embarrassed or things. Because of me.”

“What? No.” Dave shakes his head. “I just figured you don’t really want to tell people your life story,” Dave says. “Hell, I don’t always like telling people my life story. They get nosy. ‘And in your freshman year, what grades did you get in Spanish?’” 

“Okay,” Casey says. He moves closer to Dave, laying his head on Dave’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

“Yeah,” Dave says softly. “I missed you too. I’m sorry we couldn’t risk contacting each other.” 

“I never wanted to cause trouble for you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You kept yourself safe. You’re here. Everything’s _fine_ ,” Dave says. 

Casey starts gently running his hand down Dave’s chest, seemingly unconsciously. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he says. “I wished I could come back.”

“I know. I know,” Dave says quietly. “But now we’re here. In Atlanta.”

“I was gone a lot longer than I was there. You didn’t really know me that long before I left,” Casey says.

Dave shrugs. “Some things aren’t about getting to a specific length of time, you know? They just are. We just _are_.” 

“You don’t think there’s some stuff we can’t ever make up for?” 

“No,” Dave says, shaking his head. “Maybe some other people couldn’t, but we’re okay. We’re good.”

“Okay,” Casey says. He keeps running his hand down Dave’s chest, his fingers curled slightly. “David?”

“Yeah?” Dave answers.

“I didn’t ever stop loving you, either,” Casey says. 

Dave smiles. “I know,” he says, kissing Casey softly. He knew the minute that he realized Casey was in Atlanta, because it’s still a straight shot down I-75 from Lima, still not as safe, and Casey has no other real reason to be in Atlanta, out of all the cities in the country. They keep kissing, softly and slowly, and Casey’s hands travel between Dave’s chest and Dave’s hair as the kisses get a little less slow and a little deeper. Casey ends up landing on top of Dave before too much time passes, and Dave turns his head at one point just long enough to murmur in Casey’s ear. 

“This is all I need,” he says softly, then returns to kissing Casey, time passing in a weird haze. Dave’s equally sure they could have been kissing for five minutes or five hours, and sometimes the kisses are hurried and sometimes gentle, their hands holding each other. 

Dave decides after what feels like a long time that Casey looks and feels, to Dave, like he might be tired, and he turns his head, tucking Casey’s head against his shoulder. “Rest, Case,” he whispers. “Rest.” 

Casey makes an agreeable humming sound in response, his head burrowing into the space between Dave’s head and shoulder. His fingers trail down Dave’s chest a few more times before stilling, his hand palm down over Dave’s heart. Dave holds still, listening to Casey’s breathing even out, and he stares at the lamp, then out the window. 

Dave doesn’t know what Casey had to endure, and he knows Casey will probably never fully tell him, but none of it matters to Dave, as long as Casey is okay. Casey is okay, Casey is alive, and Casey is in Atlanta, with Dave. They missed three years, and they can’t ever get those three years back, but Dave knows they have plenty of time going forward, time that those three years bought for them. 

He tightens his arms around Casey a little, almost involuntarily, and kisses the top of his head before closing his eyes. Casey will be there in the morning when he wakes up, and the morning after that, and the morning a year later, and in the morning years later, too.

**Author's Note:**

> After zigzagging across the Midwest, Casey finally made it to New York City. He spent the next almost three years sleeping in his car, crashing on floors and couches, sometimes staying at the [Ali Forney Center](http://www.aliforneycenter.org/) on the rare occasion he could snag one of their few beds, doing many of the things that a [homeless teen](https://www.dosomething.org/actnow/tipsandtools/background-11-effects-teen-homelessness) has to do to survive on the streets. He worked odd jobs wherever he could find them, earned money however he could get it, and finished his education at Harvey Milk High School in NYC. Between taking summer courses, he was able to finish only a semester behind his original graduation date, applying for financial aid at GT and starting in Spring 2015. 
> 
> From the time he made it to New York to the time he moved to Atlanta, Casey paid the Hudson-Hummels back for the car $5 to $20 at a time, mailing cash with no return address, just a New York postal code.


End file.
